


Hacy Ficlet Compilation

by katasstropheee



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 12,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24730159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katasstropheee/pseuds/katasstropheee
Summary: A collection of fics I write on tumblr involving Hacy.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood & Macy Vaughn, Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 17
Kudos: 30





	1. Morning after #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@vaughnsgreenwood](http://vaughnsgreenwood.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

Macy woke up suddenly. She wasn’t startled, she simply opened her eyes and felt the morning sun shining in her eyes and warming her bare arms. She took a few breaths, letting her head catch up to her body.

At first she couldn’t recall last night. It felt like a dream lingering at the back of her mind that she couldn’t quite reach. But it came back to her slowly. Small moments, infinite in measure, came rushing in…

A touch. A hand on the small of her back. Burning pressure on her lips.

Laughter. Her high chuckles blending perfectly with a gruffer inflection.

A feeling. Cool breeze meeting heated skin. Shivers running the length of her body as it swayed with an intangible rhythm.

Then, words. “What do you want?” A beat long enough to linger in the air. “For you to get your ass over here and dance with me.”

She gasped. She finally had feeling back in her arms, and knew she was still outside lying bare on the grass. The display of vines and lights from their outside patio are above her, still shining bright. It’s chilly enough for dew to seep through her clothes, but it’s not uncomfortable.

She hears someone exhale beside her. Turning her head, she observes Harry. He’s fast asleep, lips parted, chest rising at an even pace with her heart rate. With the memories from last night fresh in her mind, she can’t help but gush. It actually happened. He’s wearing the same shirt. He still smells of champagne and fading cologne.

She rolls onto her side, extending a hand to brush a piece of grass of his head. Her fingers graze his temple, and she suddenly remembers more. Before she was forced to trudge through her forgotten past, she was standing before him. James. His past. A stranger. And yet. As she began the spell, there was a look in his eyes. Tentative, but trusting. And when her fingers touched his head, there was heat.

She couldn’t explain how, but somehow she knew. Despite the blockage, Harry was still there. A subconscious observer behind the blinds of someone he had forgotten he could be. She was a woman of science, so destiny had no room on her list of possibilities. But if her past was anything to consider, it proved that magic is more than potions and spells. It’s a motion that webs the past and future together. It’s destiny. It must be.

“Macy.”

She jumps, her hand reaching back as she realizes Harry is awake. “I-I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“You did” he whispers. “But it’s okay. I’ve wanted to wake up like this for a long time.”

She breathes in deep, swallowing her nervousness before replying. “Outside in wet grass?” she jokes.

“No.” This time his hand comes up to brush her temple, moving a few strands of hair from her eyes. “To wake up… happy.”

She felt her cheeks burn at that statement. She didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay here forever, wet jeans be damned. “We should get going. I’m sure your sisters are awake by now.” He starts to rise, stretching his arm back and revealing a pale patch of skin at the brim of his trousers. She stares briefly before the spell is broken.

“No, wait.” She touches his shoulder, halting him before he can rise another inch. “I know the world needs us right now. It feels like it always will. But…. I need this right now.” She watches his eyes return to hers. She has his full attention as she draws him back to the ground. “Let’s just stay here. For a few more minutes.”

He is captivated by her beauty, her strength, her sudden peak of confidence he knew she had but could never express. She was opening herself to new possibilities, and he was one of them. “Ok.” It was all he could muster.

They stayed there. Whether it was a few minutes or an hour, they weren’t sure. All they knew was everything in that moment was worth it. Every touch. Every feeling. Every kiss to come.


	2. A sweet moment in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@waveridden](http://waveridden.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

Macy hadn’t slept as well as she would have liked. Another 3am bubble bath had occupied her mind with plan A’s and Plan B’s and all the worst case scenarios that could follow. So a usually relaxing activity had turned into homework, and left her unsatisfied.

She took a sip of her freshly brewed coffee, ignoring the heat that bit into the tip of her tongue. Soft footsteps made their way into the kitchen so she turned around to greet them. “Oh. Morning” she exclaimed pleasantly, taking in her whitelighter’s messy hair and half open maroon night gown. He had brief’s on underneath. Only briefs.

“Morning” he groaned in his sultry voice, an optic deeper than it usually sounded before nine in the morning. She ignored the shiver it sent down her spine. “Well, well” he perked up, taking in Macy’s choice of oversized college shirt and tartan slacks. She clearly wasn’t dressed to impress, but Harry’s still gushed; “you look… amazing.”

She scoffed into her mug.

“I’m serious. You should wear your hair naturally more often.”

If he was referring to the bird’s nest she imagined her hair represented at that moment, then she figured he was kidding. “Right. Nothing’s sexier than looking like you stuck a fork in a wall socket.” She took another sip of the coffee and gagged. Perhaps she had made it too strong.

“I don’t know how many times I must spell it out for you Macy” he said, slowly approaching her. “But you are incredibly beautiful, lack of sleep be damned.”

She scoffed again. But her cheeks still blushed at the compliment, and the sudden closeness. She could smell mint toothpaste and steam, and feel the softness of his hands as they delicately grasped her arms. “Well, thank you” she mumbled when she finally caught her breath. “You look amazing too.”

“Well that’s a given” he chuffed. “Who knew a regular skin routine was as important as what all those ghastly magazines and teen blogs say?”

“Maggie.” They nodded in agreement, chuckling as Macy placed her mug down. Her hands made her way past his shoulders to sit comfortably in Harry’s hair.

“Speaking of natural hair Harry. Are you growing yours out?” She ran her through his silky locks, admiring how they stood perfectly straight.

“I just haven’t been to a dresser in a few months” he admitted. “Life has been too manic as of late.”

She hummed, remember her thought process that night. “Well we still have time. We’ll have all the time in the world.”

Harry smiled at that. Their foreheads were now touching as they swayed absently to music neither could hear. The closeness soon led to a kiss, then another. The next hour was spent in soft touches and ignorant bliss, as the world waited for them to have their moment before continuing to spin.


	3. Near death experience #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@johnbly](http://johnbly.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

If Harry Greenwood wasn’t a timeless consult to all witch kind, he believes he would’ve had enough heart attacks by now to permanently kill him. Once again, he can feel his heart breaking. It’s all figurative, but it feels real enough.

Macy is lying in his arms. It’s a familiar sight, and weight. It conjures memories of previous close calls. This one had come the closest; all that stood between life and death was a bloody shirt and his hand securing it to her stomach.

“Keep holding it Harry. And if you think it’s not working, press down harder.” Jordan’s instructions ran circles in his mind. He held on to the words, and the feelings of blood soaking his skin as he followed them.

He was finally released from the torment of his own head by Macy. She was wincing and breathing in sharply through her clenched teeth. “Macy” he whispered, afraid to raise his voice. Afraid to lose his cool. He needed to be strong.

“Harry, it’s okay.” Her words were slurred but miraculously he understood. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

“But I can’t- I ca- I can’t heal you.” A dart had left fresh venom in his veins, leaving him powerless once more. How could he be a whitelighter if he couldn’t simply heal his charges? How could she love him?

“I know” she attempted to reassure him, placing a shaking hand on his cheek. “You’re here. Th-that’s enough.”

He shook his head as tears started to fall. “It’s not enough. I’m not enough. I should be-“

She shushed him softly, failing to capture his tears before they fell. “You’re here. You’re everything t-to me.” Her smile was a warm light through the darkness of pain. “You’re everything…” Her whispers fell away as she collapsed against him. He could still feel the rapid beat of her heart against his sleeve so he didn’t panic.

Instead he let himself cry. He let Jordan prepare to suture Macy’s wound. He let her sleep, while he held her, tighter and tighter, until he needed to let go.


	4. Near death experience #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@vaughnsgreenwood](http://vaughnsgreenwood.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

“Come on Harry! Wake up!”

He was shrouded in darkness. It covered his eyes and filled his ears. It pressed too tightly to breathe through it. But his heartbeat, while sharp with alert, didn’t race in panic. He felt calm beneath the struggle of power.

But slowly he began to feel more than just numbness. There was warmth coming from somewhere he couldn’t see. There was muffled noise drawn to the base of his skull. Something hard and cool rested on his cheek.

“Harry.”

If he could move, he would’ve jumped at the sudden exclamation of his name. At least he knew his name. His memories were in tact and…. coming to think of it, they were sharp. He had never felt such clarity in his entire existence. It was like someone had turned something on his mind.

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Right now he needed to concentrate on feeling, and finding his way out of the dark. He couldn’t open his mouth to shout back. But his thoughts screamed for someone, anyone, to hear him.

“I hear you Harry.”

The voice was soft, but firm. It filled his mind with a will power he couldn’t fathom. He still couldn’t move completely, but there was movement at his side. _My fingers_ , he thought.

“That’s it Harry. Tighten your grip if you can hear me.”

He didn’t know what the voice meant by that statement, but nonetheless he complied. He attempted to raise his hand and make a fist, but he felt something before he could close his fingers together. Pressure. Delicate and warm.

“You’re doing great Harry.”

Was he? He couldn’t tell.

Suddenly the darkness was broken by a white line. It was slowly approaching from a distance he couldn’t calculate, and as it got closer, more feelings came back to him. He could know feel the wetness on his forehead. Blood or sweat, he couldn’t tell. And he was shivering despite the warmth that enveloped his entire body.

“I can feel him moving.” This time the voice felt far away, and for a moment he started to panic. But then it came back, stronger than before. “Harry, you are almost with us. I need you to open your eyes.”

But they were open. He was blinking, right? Or was he merely twitching? The horizontal ray of white light expanded as Harry fought for more control. As he struggled, the grip on his hand applied pressure back, and his could feel the grooves of…. someone else’s hand?

“That’s it, Harry. Come back to me….”

It was blinding. As the darkness disappeared, he was introduced to a brightness that burned. He squinted and squirmed, trying to block the light from his vision. But he couldn’t raise his arms. It felt like he was being held down.

“Harry. Thank god. I’m right here. Can you see me?”

A shadow came over, blocking out residual shine. He welcomed it, finally letting his eyes adjust to the world around him. As it slowly came into view, it was… familiar. He had spent most of his time in this room. Had once even slept here for a time. He recognised the sofa to his right. A small table of vials and jars to his left. And finally at his centre, brown curls and a warm smile that he could never forget.

“I… see you, Macy.”

Her outburst of relief caught him off guard. She collapsed against his chest, holding him close and secure. He felt the need to reciprocate, so the hand was clinging to life to found her back and drew circles over her favourite cardigan. The material felt familiar.

“I thought we’d lost you” Macy said between hick-ups and sharp drawls of breath. “I didn’t think I would be strong enough to bring you back.”

“I had no doubt” Harry mumbled, catching a few strands of her hair as his hand rose.

She lifted herself up to look into his eyes. “I could feel you. Your power. It was like… it channelled itself through me.”

Harry thought about this for a moment. “Maybe I was trying to reach you. Like a part of my subconscious held on to something I knew would bring me back.”

Macy scoffed lightly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Well, as a scientist, that makes so sense.” Her laughter was contagious, and as he joined her the burning sensation of fractured ribs came back to him. That didn’t stop him from chuckling at Macy’s remarks, and grinning as her hands braced his face. “One thing I could calculate?” She lent down closer, the bridge of her nose close enough to brush Harry’s.

_“I’ve never felt stronger than when you’re with me.”_


	5. Flirty bake-off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for @anonymous on tumblr.

“Out of all the demons we’ve faced, this one is definitely… the strangest.”

Macy recalls many strange occurrences since finding out she was from a lineage of powerful witches, and even stranger monsters. The kind you couldn’t imagine lurking in the dark. She had been captured by spider-like demons, gotten herself trapped in her favourite trashy tv show, and had devoured the very source of all power itself!

That last one was one she would rather forget, but she couldn’t. She needed to remember every instance of pain fear and guilt. To learn from her mistakes so they were never repeated.

Even so, right now she would freely give her left kidney for the ability to throw a fireball. How could this happen to her…. again?!

“Macy, your dough!”

She was startled from her mind by Harry. He was on the other side of the kitchen, his tailored grey suit covered in flour and perspiration. “Sorry Harry, I-“ She looked down at her hands, splayed carelessly in the large pile of thick batter. It was starting to deflate so she started again. Her massages were rough, matching her annoyance at the current situation. “I can’t believe I’m stuck in another TV show. How is this even happening?”

“I told you Macy, trickster demons are not to be messed with. We could’ve avoided this whole debacle if you had just talked to your sister-“

“Harry, I don’t need a pep-talk right now!” she snapped. The glowing sign of the Great American Bake Off hanging above her head made it throb. She couldn’t concentrate on her task, nor could she conjure up any sane plan on how to get out of this scenario. She recalled the previous sketches the trickster had left them in before this; an over-the-top 80’s cop procedural, a midday tv life insurance commercial, and just to add insult to injury, a Dr Phil-inspired monstrosity called Dr Dave that produced nothing but idiotic scientific theories that Macy would’ve proudly debunked if she knew it would piss the demon off enough to show up. From there, a swift kick between the legs and a binding spell would’ve given them enough time to come up with a-

_REMINDER: TEN MINUTES REMAINING!_

“What!” Her dough was now a lifeless glop she couldn’t detach from her hands. “Seriously? How did they expect us to make bread in 30 minutes? That’s physically impossible!”

“So is knowing who the murderer is from a three week old Chinese food receipt stuck to the victim’s shoe. Macy, none of this makes sense.” In a second Harry was by her side. He grabbed her arms and forced her to face him, ignored the large piece of batter that fell onto his shoes. “Even so, we solved the case and moved on. That’s all we need to do.”

“But still, we can’t just… conjure up a cooked loaf.”

“Can’t we?”

_WARNING: THERE WILL BE NO FRATERNISING WITH THE OTHER CONTESTANTS. PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY BACK TO YOUR STATION._

“Shut it, Mary Berry!” Harry cried into the air. He turned back to Macy, now cradling her face. “Macy, you need to focus on what’s important right now.”

“Yes” she agreed, catching her breath. “Finding Maggie and Mel.”

“Exactly. Now think of everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve accomplished.” She closed her eyes as his words brought her mind back to a calming center. “All you need to do is bake bread. It’s simple.”

“Well no, it’s not exactly sim-“ A moment of clarity hit her like a slap to the face. “Oh Harry!” She pulled him towards her, ignoring the flour dust and her sloppy hands as she kissed the breath out of him. She just as suddenly pulled back, quickly turning him around and pushing him back to his side of the kitchen. “I got it. Leave it to me.”

“Oh well, uh-“ Harry stumbled, his fingers tracing his lips as he shook his head out of dizziness and back into their current reality. “Right. Of course you do. I had no doubt.”

Macy chuckled. She began to pull ingredients out of the fridge behind her, ingredients that weren’t previously there. She manipulated the matter around her to fit her scheme, and Harry could only watch in awe as she worked. “Have I ever told you that I love watching you bake?”

“No” she said, concentrating on pouring the right amount of ingredients into the glass mixing bowl. “But I know you watch me, a lot. It’s…. nice.”

Harry hummed, going back to kneading his own dough. He didn’t need to, but at the same time he had to keep his hands busy. His mind was thinking of things not appropriate for the time or place. “Well I do like watching you. You are very skilled. I-I myself am quite skilled as well you know.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Perhaps one day we can have a… a bake-off of our own.”

She paused briefly, lowering the vial of vanilla extract to give her full concentration to Harry. “Oh. So you think you can do better than me?”

He stopped kneading and lent casually against the bench. “Well I’ve had centuries to perfect my… well, my perfections.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Only if you have the stomach for it.”

“Oh, I can take you Harry. I’ll have you on your knees, begging for my tricks.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

_WARNING: THERE WILL BE NO FRATERNISING WITH THE OT-_

“Shut it, Mary Berry!”


	6. Steamy shower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@romanogers](http://romanogers.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

“I totally called it, but no one listened!”

Macy’s shirt was ruined, beyond repair. As she stripped it from her body, the residue of the demon made it sticky. She peeled it off her skin, holding in the bile that was slowly creeping up for throat.

As the cloth of her shirt reached her face, it stopped moving. Oh no. The fabric clung to her cheeks and clogged her mouth and nose, and she started to panic.

But luckily, she wasn’t alone. Cold hands gripped the shirt at her shoulders and tugged. Together they wrestled it off Macy’s face, to which is gratefully took a deep breath of air. It smelled of rotten egg, and she almost gagged again. Her shirt was dropped to the floor on top of a pile of other ruined clothing. “Thank you” she heaved in appreciation.

She felt the same hands, smooth and chilled, massaging small circles into her upper back. She relaxed as it worked the tension out of her muscles. “My pleasure Macy. Now what do you say we wash the rest of this wretched stuff off of us?”

She nodded in a quick flurry, ignoring the dizziness it caused. The sound of water filled the room as quick as the buildup of steam. She turned and finally spotted her guest standing by the shower. Harry was as drenched in demon guts as she was.

And also, he was naked. They both were. Normally Macy would be flustered by the situation. Right now, she was too uncomfortable to pay attention to Harry’s bare behind.

“Water’s warm” he announced, taking a step back and gesturing for Macy to go first.

She sighed in frustration, and pushed him harshly into the downpour. “Sorry Harry, but the longer we stand in this, the more chance i’ll be sick. So move over.”

He did, standing directly in the corner as Macy stepped in. She watched him cower, letting her annoyance slip a little in exchange for amusement. “There’s no need for modesty.” She held out her hand. “I’ll do your back if you do mine.”

“That’s… fair.” He took her hand, and joined her beneath the warm water. It felt good - both the shower, and Macy’s hands as they scrubbed soap, pressing into the knots in his back. He couldn’t hold back the moan that erupted from his throat. He thought the sound of the rushing spray would at least disguise it.

But it didn’t. Macy heard it clearly, and blushed. They switched positions, and Harry began clearing Macy’s back of sludge and distress. It did feel good, and she managed to hold back any sign of arousal as his hands slid lower. At one point Harry was so mesmerised by the shift in Macy’s back that he was halted in place. Macy could feel his soft breath against the back of her neck. She shivered despite the enveloping heat.

“Harry, are you done?” she asked slowly, gasping as her breath got caught in her throat.

“Yeah… yes! Sorry.” He passed the soap over her shoulder, which she took in a harsh grasp. He stepped back as Macy’s turned, letting the water cascade down her chest. He took up at the shower head, giving Macy privacy from his longing gaze.

10 minutes later, the water is off and they are wrapped in towels. Macy’s hair clings to her cheeks as she dabs at her curls. Harry already has his wrapped tight over his waist. He opens the door to leave, and immediately regrets it as he’s bombarded with cool air. Macy shivers as well, crossing her arms over her chest to combat the cold.

“Anyway, uh… thanks Harry. I couldn’t have washed it all off without you.”

“Yes, likewise Macy.”

They stayed still, taking one last yearning look at each other, before took his hasty exit.


	7. Bad date turned better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for @anonymous on tumblr.

“You know I love you, but that was the worst.”

Harry tried not to take offence to Macy’s comment. She was laughing as she said it, so that was easily done. Still, he couldn’t help but linger on a small bit of shame. “Well the internet praised the place for its “authentic British atmosphere” and its “award-winning yorkshire puddings”.”

“Yeah, if that award was a razzie!” she chuckled.

“Okay, okay. I get it, I messed up.”

“Hey, hey. come on.” Macy blocked Harry’s path to grab his shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You did nothing wrong my dear” Harry reassured, though he still sounded disheartened. “I just wanted tonight to be special, and now…”

“Well, it’s only…” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, and briefly flinched at the sharp brightness. “It’s just past eight. We still have time to make this evening special.”

“I don’t know. I can still smell the gravy.” He curled his tongue in disgust at the image of the sludge they had produced. _How could they call that gravy?_

“Well I won’t let Oliver’s Pub and Dine ruin my night. And I won’t let you ruin it either. Come on.”

He let her tug him along. He no longer had any motivation to keep this night going, so he let Macy’s warm hand and strong pull be his guide. His eyes looked out to the water, spreading wide and shimmering into the pitch black of night. If only that darkness could swallow him whole and anoint him of all humiliation.

“Here we are.” He felt her reach in his jacket pocket. It took some rummaging before she came out successful. His leather wallet was fairly new, a past christmas present from the sisters, and already had creases of time etched into its surface. Macy produced a 20 dollar note and passed the pouch back.

“Be right back” was all she said before racing away. He waited patiently, taking a seat on the ledge of a small garden. He watched Macy approach the counter of a small food truck. It was adorned in fairy lights and cartoon faces painted to its sides. It looked cute, wholesome. A dramatic contrast to the eery lighting of the pub.

The shame was still there, stirring in his stomach. He was gazing at his shoes when Macy finally returned. She was holding two small bowls, one she held out excitedly to him. “Pistachio. Your favourite.”

It was his favourite. The sisters had thought it unusual, but Macy, as bright as ever, had been open to trying it. She liked it, for the most part. As least she was polite about her distaste for the flavour. “Thank you.” He took the treat and picked at it with the small yellow spoon it came with.

Macy planted herself down next to him and took a big bite of her own. Strawberry swirls. Her favourite. “See? I told you this evening could still be special.”

“Well, I appreciate the effort.”

“Harry.” He looked up and into her earnest eyes. “I appreciate your effort too.”

He didn’t say what he wanted to say - about how he felt that the evening was his fault, that he could never be the perfect man he wanted to be for her. But instead he nodded in gratitude to Macy’s words, and licked a small sliver of ice-cream off the back of his spoon.

Macy knew she wouldn’t get any more out of Harry that evening. He was embarrassed, and clearly wanted to go home and pretend tonight never happened. As determined as she was to get him out of his rut, she knew it was a lost cause. So she settled for finishing their desserts before they would walk back to the car.

She took another big bite of the cold gelato, and instantly regretted it. The frost hit her teeth and immediately numbed her brain. Harry turned, startled as Macy began kicking her legs and shaking her head. “Macy, are you okay?” he asked in concern.

Her face scrunched up as she attempted to answer his enquiry. “Just… a- a brain… freeze.”

Finally, she managed to get a rise from him. She would’ve preferred the laughter to come a little sooner, and from something else entirely. But it was a welcome sound against the backdrop of the night.

He couldn’t help but find affection in the way her eyes compressed, and her lips pouted. He brought an arm up behind her back and embraced her. He hurried his hands to rub some warmth into her as she continued to struggle. “I’m sorry Macy, it’s just…”

“I know, it’s okay.” The numbness calmed down, leaving her spent. She leaned heavily into Harry, feeling the reverberation of his chuckles through his coat. “I’m just happy to see you smile.”

“Yeah” he conceded. “I’ve been a bit of a bummer, haven’t I?”

“Not at all.” Her head stayed buried on his shoulder as she turned to gaze up at him. He looked down, gazing longingly at the sparkle in Macy’s eye. He placed a kiss to her nose, which made her scrunch her eyes up again. “You ready to call it a night?”

“Sure.” He stood, keeping his arm secured to Macy’s side. They discarded their incomplete bowls and made their way back along the pier.


	8. Lunch date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@vaughnsgreenwood](http://vaughnsgreenwood.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

_“I don’t actually like sushi, I lied to impress you.”_

Extended lunches were rare for both of them. Harry had been bombarded with meetings all week, and Macy usually worked through her lunches, which was a habit Harry had berated her about. So with the promise of meeting up and actually giving themselves a break from the busy existence of work, they met up.

They were seated in Harry’s office. The door was locked to avoid distractions, and the silence was broken by light piano music playing from Harry’s laptop. It was almost… romantic. _Almost_.

“Oh.” Macy was so startled by the comment she almost dropped her chopsticks. “I… I’m sorry, if I had known-”

“No Macy, it is I who should apologise. I should’ve been more open with my preferences.”

“Right.” Her thought process was thrown off, and she needed a moment to evaluate what she had actually just heard. “So… you don’t like sushi?”

“Well its… not my cup of tea, per say. That’s to say… seafood in general is…”

“Oh, right.” She immediately busied herself in packing away Harry’s lunch, which sat untouched. She could offer it to Maggie when they got home, so at least it wouldn’t go to waste.

Harry watched Macy clear the table. “I am sorry Macy. It must’ve been expensive.”

“Don’t worry about that” she reassured him, sitting back as she finished packing it away. “But now, you have nothing to eat.”

He hadn’t thought about that, only now realising his stomach had been grumbling noisily with anticipation. “That’s… alright. I can get something later.”

“You will not.” She reached back into her bag, concentrating on searching its contents for something. “You berated me all week for skipping meals. I will not allow you to do the same.”

“Ah, okay” he accepted, feeling a little guilty for that as well. The shame was piling up into a long list of things he would need to apologise for later. As he contemplated them, Macy finally produced what she had been searching for. A small plastic container, wrapped in thin gold ribbon. “Here, you can have this.”

It looked special. He didn’t reach for it, as he felt he did not deserve something Macy had clearly bought for herself. “Macy, I can’t-”

“You will take this.” She planted it gently in the place of where his previous lunch once was. “You will eat it, and enjoy it, and owe me in the future. Understood?”

Okay. He could accept a promise. He reached for the box and untied the bow with ease. He opened it and instantly caught a whiff of fresh strawberries. He gazed in amazement at the smooth slice of cheesecake. He felt bad for taking this treat away from Macy. She worked long hours which, along with her witch duties, took time away from luxuries, just like this.

Still, he couldn’t say no. Not with Macy sitting across from him, glaring daggers into his hands, waiting for him to take the first bite.

He took his plastic fork, and scraped off a hefty piece. It hit his mouth in an instant of creamy ricotta and pure fragrance. It was delicious. “Hmm, delightful” he acclaimed, the mouthful making it come out muffled and not in any way attractive.

Macy simply smiled, a little defeated at losing something she’d been looking forward to, but still happy that Harry was filling his stomach. “Remember, you owe me.”

He nodded furiously, dabbing at his lips with a napkin. “In that case, I may be a little late coming home this evening.”

“Oh” she responded a small amount touch of recognition. “that’s…. understandable. I’ll have dinner ready for you when you do.”

“Excellent.”


	9. Cute kitchen moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for @anonymous on tumblr.

_“I didn’t know you could sing!”_

Harry turned sharply, startled by the audience he didn’t realise he had. It was only Macy, but her wide eyes and applauds were enough to leave him feeling overwhelmed. “I-I’m sorry, when did you arrive?”

“Just a moment ago” she said. She slowly entered the kitchen, taking a seat at the bench as she took off her bag and relaxed her shoulders. “I guess you didn’t hear me come in.”

“No, I- the water must’ve been running.”

She hummed, her eyes pinched in concentration. He felt heavy beneath her stare. “Are we… just going to ignore what I just heard??”

“Well” he fumbled into an explanation that Macy was only partially listening to. She watched his hands shake, sending suds of soap all over the place. It was amusing to see him stumble over something so… mundane, especially given the fact that he lived under the same roof as three sisters who, on occasion would be singing themselves, loud and proud.

“Harry, honey. Calm down” she finally interjected, worried he would lost focus if he continued. “You don’t me an essay-sized explanation.”

“No, I know.”

“We all sing. I’m sure you’ve heard me a dozen times.”

“I have” he admitted. “You have an incredible voice.”

“Thank you.” She dipped her head with the unexpected compliment, meeting Harry’s eyes before he turned back to the sink. His smile was warm and appreciative.

He was glad the conversation was finally coming to an end. Macy hadn’t moved from her position, but he merely thought she was exhausted from work and would eventually move on.

“If I can just ask… what were you singing?”

There was a loud clash as the plate Harry had been cleaning almost slipped from his hand. He stayed silent as he felt her presence behind him, and caught the light tapping of her finger against the table.

“Because… that song sounded familiar.”

The sink was already filled with enough water to wash the dishes present, but nevertheless he turned the tap back on, filling the room with its loud rush.

“In fact” Macy continued, rising her voice above the noise, “it sounded like the song Maggie was singing the other day-”

_Splash!_

The water was mild, thankfully, as it hit Macy straight in the face. She blinked the droplets out of her eyes and watched Harry’s face fall. He stuttered, attempting an apology. But before he could continue, Macy was standing and racing around the counter.

The battle that ensued was a flurry of water and soap and a wet dish towel Macy was using as a makeshift baton. Between the escalating violence was laughter, and the pushing and tugging soon turned into wrestling. Harry had an arm wrapped around Macy’s waist, and a hand running bubbles through her hair.

“Whoa, guys!”

They stopped their pursuit, separating quickly as they took in their sister’s startled expression. “Maggie, hey. When did you get home?”

She pointed a thumb behind her, gesturing towards the front room, while her mouth searched for the right words to say. “I- I did not mean to interrupt… whatever this was.”

“It’s nothing” Harry tried to explain, holding in laughter that was still erupting from his chest.

“Okay, ah… I think it’s bedtime. For me. Have fun you too.” She turned her back, her eyes going down to her phone as she concluded: “Don’t forget a condom.”

“Yes, goodnight Mags!” Macy yelled back. Right now they were too euphoric to be embarrassed. Obviously, the brawl was over. But their attention was as far from the unfinished dishes as it could get.

“Ms Vaughn, shall we continue this upstairs?”

“Mr Greenwood, I was afraid you’d never ask.”

They embraced in a hurry. He embraced her with strong arms and kissed any objections off her lips, before orbing away.


	10. Near death experience #3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@pinkievie](http://pinkievie.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

_“Don’t tell me to calm down! You calm down!”_

She could feel the panic building in her chest, tightening her ribcage over her lungs. She fought for breath, but came out defeated. All she could do was embrace the hand that held tightly to Harry.

“Macy.” His voice was soft and soothing, attempting to calm the storm erupting from the witch.

She was hearing him, but the overwhelming fear was too much to tame. Her fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and her hand pushed out, letting a rush of power escape her fingertips.

The demon were pushed back several metres. One hit the fence was a loud bang and fell to the ground unmoving. The other managed to catch itself before colliding and looked up in anger. It rose to attack.

Harry thought quickly. Orbing was not an option right now, but that was not all a whitelighter was capable of. His hand lashed out in a similar fashion to Macy’s, but instead produced a blinding white light. The demon flinched back, it’s skin burning with every inch the light touched.

As it was distracted, Macy murmured a spell under her breath. Without the power of three present, she couldn’t outright vanquish the beast. The best she could do was inflict enough damage to slow it down.

It worked. And with the last demon down for the count, Harry hooked his arms around Macy’s back and legs and carried her out of the warehouse. When they were a few blocks away, he found a small alleyway to crash in. It was clean enough for Macy to be placed on the floor.

Once down, she threw her arms around his neck. He held her as she shook, her breath still caught in her throat. “Macy, I need you to breathe with me.” He took one of her hands and placed it on his chest. The rhythm of his heartbeat was rough, and Macy could feel it dancing against her cold palm. “Let my heartbeat guide you. Let my breathing guide you.”

She did as instructed. Soon enough, she could breathe again. Her chest still hurt, but now she could manage it. She embraced Harry’s warmth and comfort, and took one last, long exhale through her lips. “Thank you.” It came out in a breathless whisper.

He sighed in relief and pulled her back into his arms. Her head rested gently on his shoulder. 


	11. Memory lane #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for @anonymous on tumblr.

_“It’s your birthday!?”_

Macy had noticed Harry’s sour mood since breakfast. He hid it well behind small talk and fake laughter at Maggie’s Kappa stories, but as she sipped her coffee in silence she observed his eyes. They looked tired and irritated opposed to his pearly grin.

It was a saturday, and unusually quiet in regards to demonic activity. So with Mel and Maggie off doing their own thing, Macy had the house to herself. Wanting to take advantage of the seclusion, she had planned to take a long bath, relaxing off the stresses of the week.

On her way to her room, she caught the creek of the attic stairs. She followed the sound to the door that was wide opened and peered inside. Harry was seated on the sofa, where he was often found when he visited the residence, with his head ducked. On his lap sat a small shoe-box, the contents of which had his full attention. So he didn’t notice when Macy approached.

Or peered over his shoulder to see what held his concentration. It was an old black-and-white photograph of two men. The adult’s face was blurred out (perhaps from too much exposure when the photo was printed) but the young boy’s face was clear, and bright in happiness. A small cake sat to the side, a small candle lit on its surface.

Regarding the image, and Harry’s enrapture to it, Macy made an assumption. “Harry, is it your birthday?”

He jumped, finally noticing the shadow of Macy’s silhouette on the timber floor. He stood nervously, hiding the photograph behind his back as he addressed her. “Macy, I’m sorry. i didn’t hear you enter.”

“That’s okay. I-I guess I should apologise too. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Oh, nonsense” Harry said deep in thought. After a moment the image reappeared. “I’m still coming to terms with my past. I shouldn’t hide it from you.”

That reflection surprised Macy. Harry was not one for hiding his emotions, especially to something so deep and personal. But lately, his past was in question. She couldn’t blame him for hiding it, or sweeping it beneath the rug. She had done it herself but a few months ago.

He held out the photograph so they could both see it. “This was taken in 1956. I don’t recall much about the day itself but… I remember his laughter. We had gotten him a toy truck for his birthday. He loved it.”

She listened to him speak fondly of this memory, growing anxious at the false assumption she had made. “So… that boy?” she asked cautiously.

“Carter Westwell” he confirmed. There were tears flush in his eyes as he gazes at Macy. “My son.”

“Wow.” She’s speechless.

“I have mentioned him before, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, yes you did” she confirmed hastily. “Mel told us about your trip to London. It’s just… he looks like you.”

“Well I sure hope so.”

She chuckled at Harry’s quip, leaning her head on his shoulder as she admired his heir.

Her desire for a bath is forgotten as she is enchanted by old tales and reminiscences of Harry’s life. Hours pass, and the only time they move from the attic is when Harry orbs downstairs to fill another kettle for tea.


	12. Sexy times #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for @anonymous on tumblr.
> 
> For the prompt: Blowing a raspberry against someone's skin.

Macy leans back into the cushions of her bed and sinks in deep. Her head once wrapped in thoughts of scientific nature was now blissfully numb. Who needed to think when they could simply _feel_?

Harry made damn sure of that.

His kisses had become nothing but small spots as his lips traced the outline of her collarbone. His fingers made quick work of removing her thin shirt straps to expose more skin to explore. As he got lower and lower, discovering every inch of surface that made Macy’s toes curl, he found a particular area of interest.

She sighed rapidly as his right hand circled the wide expanse of stomach beneath her silk shirt. Quickly he shoved it up to the band of her bra and laid deep kisses above her navel. She shivered more, failing to holt her hips from rising in response.

“Harry.” Her voice low and deep, only inviting more touch.

As his mouth became more ravenous, there was an odd sound produced between the puckering of lips and Macy’s frantic moans. It tickled, making her suddenly kick her legs up in surprise. She hit Harry in the knee, which jarred him out of his routine.

“Oh, Harry” Macy gasped, in shock instead of salacity. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no” he said in a flurry, rising back up the bed to continue his parade of kisses over her face. He started on her lips, then moved to her cheek while she tried to speak in coherent words.

“You just… you surprised me with the- um with the… wh-whatever you were do-“ Her words were lost to the shudder that climbed her spine. Harry was clearly not in the mood for conversation, as he used his hands cleverly to distract her. It was working perfectly.

But before he could brush his fingers over that area in her jeans again, she grabbed his wrist. With some semblance of control she caught his attention. “Before you do… whatever _that_ was again, do you mind… doing that thing on my stomach again?”

His head twitched to this side in curiosity. “You mean, the…”

“Yes” she confirmed. With their minds working in tandem she brought his wrist up to the hem of her shirt. He gripped it, lifting it as she commanded till her skin was once again fully exposed. “Do it again” she demanded breathlessly.

He obeyed, after kissing the last trace of breath from Macy’s throat. As he descended and attached his lips to the soft patch of skin just above her fly, she had more control this time. She bent her knees, digging her feet into the comforter and planting her hips firmly to the bed. Harry assisted by placing one of hand on her hip. The other went back to brushing her crotch instantly, making harder to keep control.

Yeah, any bearing for thought was thrown out the window. All that mattered were the senses presenting live data to the parts of her brain lit up in her head.

And Harry, who blew more raspberries into her tummy with delighted determination.


	13. Under the stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@waveridden](http://waveridden.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> For the prompt: Watching a meteor shower.

The orb took them from the front stoop of the porch to a wide field of short green grass. The uneven earth made Macy stumble. Luckily Harry was there to catch her and take the brunt of her weight as he cradled her into his side. She planted a hand on his chest as she braced herself.

“Are you well, Macy?” he asked.

She threw her hair back, laughing off the distress and giving Harry an appreciative grin. “I am. Thanks for catching me.”

“Always.” He planted a swift kiss to the tip of her nose, before helping her stand straight.

When her bearings had finally returned, she looked out. She could now appreciate the view of expanded ocean, bordered by fall trees. It took her breath away. She reached for another handhold, but Harry was missing. After a brief moment of panic, she realised he was a few steps away. He was laying down a large square of peach on the contrasting green. He also pulled out two more thick blankets from the wicker basket.

He caught her eye from over his shoulder and beckoned her to join him. “Please, sit Macy. We still have a few minutes.”

Macy’s surprise was not unwarranted. It was by design. Macy has instructed Harry to pick the activity for Saturday date night, and he obliged. Only he had every detail from her. He even brought her sisters in, swearing them to secrecy. As much as Macy tried to get hints of the evening ahead, they kept their lips sealed firmly behind teasing smirks.

She gave credit where it was due. It was a well-played plan. Even if she still wasn’t too fond of surprises, she was at least reassured by Harry. He knew her afflictions and respected them. So she didn’t expect anything major. A picnic on a hill seemed reasonable.

As she sat down, she watched in awe as Harry kept pulling item after item out of the medium-sized basket. He noticed her shocked expression and chuckled. “Mel charmed it.”

“How?” she asked.

Harry explained as he observed Macy. She braced her hands to the ground as she lifted herself over the crate to take a look inside. He held her waist to stop her from falling. “A simple spell. I think she came up with it on her own. All it does is make the space of the basket bigger without changing it on the outside.”

“And that doesn’t affect the weight.”

“Not at all. In fact, it was lighter than I anticipated.”

“Wow.”

Harry gripped her waist a little tighter as she lowered herself back onto the blanket. As amazed as she was by what magic could do, even after a year of discovering it for herself, It would never exceed Harry’s amazement of her. His touch lingered as he got the overwhelming urge to lay her down beneath the stars and kiss her.

But they were here for a reason, even if that reason also included enjoying each other’s company. That feeling could come later. He let go, hiding his disappointment as he asked; “How are you still amazed by things like this?”

“As a scientist, I know things like this shouldn’t be discovered for another 10 or 20 years, theoretically. I guess I’m still caught off guard by the all the things I can accomplish now.”

“And you still plan to earn a Nobel Prize for it all, correct?”

“Absolutely!” she affirmed, tugging the lid of the container and examine its contents. “That plan as not changed, despite everything else that has.”

“Hm, indeed.” Gratefully, they no longer lingered on the past. It had been a long and gruelling process, but acceptance had reached its peak at some point. They had a new home, new opportunities, and new friends in Jordan and the crew at Safe Space. It was what had led Macy and Harry to this place in their life, and their relationship.

Macy took a small green grape and bit into it. It was cool and juicy. “So you went all out, didn’t you?”

Harry blushed at Macy’s stare, licking his lips as he watched her finish to small piece of fruit. “It-It’s nothing really.”

“Sure” she said, taking another grape and leaning back against her hands. “So, where are we exactly?”

“Finger Lakes.”

She chewed as she took in the place name. It took a moment to recognise it, and another to not choke as she swallowed. “Finger Lakes? Like… New York’s Finger Lakes.”

“Exactly. You know your geography.”

“Yeah I- Wow. Okay. Wasn’t expecting this, but okay.” She heard a sudden pop to her right. She turned and peered forward as she caught the hiss of champagne escaping the bottle and cascading into two shot glasses. “Any reason for this particular location?”

He handed her a glass, which she took with a short ‘thank you.’ He then checked his watch. “Ah, you will find out any minute now.”

She watched him curiously as he dimmed the small torch that had been producing enough light to illuminate their area. Now she could barely make out Harry’s sharp cheekbones against the bare moonlight. He caught her stare. “Look up Macy, you might miss it.”

After a moment of prolonged gazing, she looked up. The sky was abound with stars, an unusual site outside the big city. She was enraptured in trying to identify as many constellations as she could remember. But that was soon stalled by the sudden stream of lights across the darkness. Thin lines pierced the sky, shooting from one side to another.

“Are those… meteors?”

She felt Harry acknowledgement beside her. He had moved closer to her side. Without intention, they both reclined till they were lying down. She was still too awestruck by the sight to look away, but nevertheless she searched for Harry’s embrace. She felt his fingers dance delicately over her wrist before he took her hand.

Harry added commentary of the names of all the constellations in sight, and the name of the meteors that rained down. Macy listened, but couldn’t register anything but Harry’s soft articulation. She didn’t know how much time went by, but eventually the lights stopped moving. The night sky was still blanketed in stars and they were indeed beautiful, but right now she wanted to look at Harry.

She let go of his hand, turning onto her side and facing him. He still had his gaze aimed high, but he acknowledged the change in position with a brief glimpse. “Macy, you’re missing the view.”

“No I’m not.”

Her hasty and honest reply made him finally turn his head. He gazed into her eyes, reflecting the twinkling of distance lights, and turned his body to match Macy’s position. They lied there, simply taking in each other’s features. She memorised the lines of his face, and the curve of his neck, and soon enough her eyes had adjusted enough to the dark.

“You’re beautiful, Harry” she said, brushing a hand through his hair.

He leaned up and into the touch. “As are you, Macy. You never cease to astonish me.”

As much as they could compliment each other, they would rather let their actions speak for them. Harry leaned over for the kiss, pushing Macy onto her back. His face was now silhouetted against the night sky. As much as she wanted to capture that image in her mind forever, she couldn’t stop her eyes from closing as the kiss deepened.


	14. To the rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@vaughnsgreenwood](http://vaughnsgreenwood.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> For the prompt: A person's weight as they lie on top of you.

Without a job taking up the majority of her day, Macy spent it in the attic. The slow progression of rebuilding the new Book of Shadows was a full time job, one she and Mel shared a responsibility for. Maggie had chipped in once or twice, but she seemed to be more comfortable with design than actual spell casting.

On a Wednesday morning in July, it’s one of the hottest days of the year. Without air conditioning, the only allowance of relief came from a second-hand fan. It kept her skin cool beneath the thin stream of sweat, but otherwise she was feeling the heat. It didn’t help that she had chosen that day to use the portable burner to brew a new potion she had been experimenting with.

Still, she pushed through the discomfort and fatigue. She could rest once it was done.

Which was sooner than later. Because as she took another spoonful of dried wormwood to the bubbling mixture, there was an explosion.

One minute she’s brushing sweat from her eyes. The next, they’re closed.

She feels the descent, and the harsh thwack as her back meets the floor. But she was unaware and unprepared for the sudden weight that compressed her waist. As sparks flew, her face was covered in a shroud of darkness. All she could make out was a loud explosion and the heavy increase of her heartbeat.

A moment later, or what felt like much longer, the chaos had died down. She could finally find some semblance of control. First, she felt around, bracing the floor as she attempted to lift her arms. They wouldn’t budge. She felt panic simmering in the pit of her stomach.

“Come on. Macy, can you hear me?”

She jolted. Her eyes flew open and immediately retracted from the brightness of the room. A face was silhouetted against the light, and a warm hand was resting on her cheek. “Hey, hey. It’s okay” they said. The voice was a familiar comfort, and the feeling in the stomach was instantly gone.

“Harry? Wh-what happened?’

He beamed in relief at her reply. “I’m not sure. You were working on something when I entered the room. Whatever ingredient you were adding at the time did not seem to agree with the potion.”

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t even see you enter.”

“Well you were clearly enthralled in your work.”

“I know I-“

“Hey, hey.” He dragged his thumb over her cheek, soothing the rising turmoil he could feel trying to escape. “It’s alright. It was a close call, but we’re okay.”

That sentiment settled her. She took in a deep breath, counted to three in her head and then let it out. As her mind slowed to an even pace, she finally took stock of the situation. Nothing appeared to be broken, or on fire, so she considered that a triumph. She was unsure about the remains of the potion because from her reclined position, Harry’s shoulder was blocking it. In fact…

“Harry, why are you still on top of me?”

His expression of affection slowly bloomed into confusion. He looked down, than up, his eyes shifting between her chest and her face. She blushed beneath the observation. “I… I’m not sure.” It took him another moment to actually move. He sat up, moving to his knees and bracing Macy’s arms as he helped her rise. They stayed rooted, still close enough to feel each other’s breath against their cheeks. “I was worried for your safety, but you seem okay.”

“Yeah I-“ she exhaled. “I guess I should thank you for the timely rescue. If you hadn’t had been here, I would probably be… wearing another perm, I imagine.”

He chuckled at the image that appeared in his head at that expression. “Yes, I could imagine that would’ve blown you away.” He patted her chaotic curls down as they laughed into each other. Their foreheads were barely touching. “I’m just glad you’re okay” he concluded, softly, beneath his breath.

She nodded against his skin, her arms braced on his shoulders as they sat their in the steaming mist of a failed experiment.


	15. Bed rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@pinkievie](http://pinkievie.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> For the prompt: Your bed after travelling.

Three orbs, two motels, and a winter to break records. That’s all it took for Macy to reconsider foreign travel for the rest of her life.

She was exhausted, and not just physically. Her mind was rattled with scenes she would rather forget. But on the forefront were images of isolation. She had spent days trekking a forest of trees that stretched into the sky, with very little light to guide her way. If Harry had not been there to lead, she would still be lost.

Instead, they had been victorious.

An award of knowing the sanctuary of magic was safe was great. A gold medallion with ancient properties was even better.

But better than that? A bed.

It was the first place Macy asked Harry to orb her to. He did willingly, and then proceeded to crash right beside her upon landing. Their sighs of elation filled the room like a song on endless repeat. They neither felt the need for conversation or attention, so they just lied there in warmth and safety, knowing the other was there.

As Macy’s eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, she finally realised how late it was. Or early. Time was not a construct she wished to think about at that moment. Instead she focused on the strange angle of the window, and the dark presentation of the wallpaper in contrast to the moonlight. Her room looked… unfamiliar.

With as much strength as she could muster, she lifted her head to give the room a proper gander. Her desk wasn’t there, nor was the door to the en suite bathroom. In fact, the room was smaller than her own.

In the morning she would blame it on the burnout of the mission. But it still took her longer than necessary to realise this was not her room at all. It was…

Harry. Yes, Harry was there, wasn’t he? She threw her head back down over the comforter, letting the dizziness in her mind die down before turning to glance at his figure. His eyes were closed, mouth gaped, and chest rising in an even pace. Sleep made him look soft and impassive.

She could’ve watched him all night. But her own tiredness was quickly catching up with her. So instead she let her own eyes fall closed, allowing the last image imprinted on her brain to lull her into a peaceful slumber.


	16. Memory lane #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@pinkievie](http://pinkievie.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> From the prompt: Finding old photographs you'd forgotten about.

It took her longer to move in to her new digs than she thought it would. She was excited of course, but a part of her still doubted reality.

Maggie and Melanie were nothing but supportive of her move, even if at first they were daunted in giving up their mother’s room. It was the last spare space in the house, and they were sure Marisol would’ve given it up in a heartbeat. But the room itself was haunted by memories the two sisters had to live in.

Macy considered it a blessing she couldn’t feel them too. She had her own memories to haunt her anyway.

There were two boxes left to unpack. They were nothing special – just small nick-knacks or things that would end up packed away in the back of the wardrobe. Still, she wanted to be thorough. She opened the biggest box first, pulling out a stuffed teddy proudly named Einstein and an old rose-gold jewellery box. She had the perfect places for these items already mapped out, so she set them aside.

The next thing she produced from the box was a smaller box. Ironic, she thought satirically. She unclasped its own lid and took a gander at the contents. She was about to put it aside to join the others, when a small corner of something else caught her eye.

She unburied it from the cluster and held it delicately between her fingers. It was a small pile of photographs tied together with old ribbons. It was loose enough to slip off.

The first photo was of Macy and her father. There was no date printed on the back of the image to verify, so she estimated her age to be three or four. She looked happy, snuggled deeply into her father’s chest. She smiled fondly at the memory that accompanied the photograph.

Flipping it over, the next photo would’ve been taken a year or so later. First day of school. Macy was holding a small tin lunchbox, and wearing two untamed plaits. She was grinning, but the nervousness in her eyes could not be disguised.

The next photo; a year after. Her sixth birthday. Blowing out candles on a chocolate cake with strawberry frosting. The background dark and uninviting, despite the streamers and confetti that decorated the table.

The next few photographs were flipped through quick in concession. Each was from the next birthday following, and each was sadder than the last. The communality of them only grew more obvious as she continued her observations – in each new picture, she was alone. Isolated. The pieces of her soul burdened by abandonment burned fresh beneath her chest. She was far from a panic attack.

And yet, the tears threatened to spill.

_Knock, knock._

“Macy?”

She jumped at the sudden intrusion. Luckily she was facing away from the door, so she could hide her face while she tried to wipe the dew away. “Hey Harry.” Unfortunately, her voice couldn’t hide the fight she was having against her own emotions.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, hesitantly taking a few steps into the room.

“Peachy” she replied. She shook her head out of its misery and peered over her shoulder at her concerned companion. “I just… took an unexpected trip down memory lane.”

He heard him hum in response. Then suddenly his hand was on her shoulder, squeezing it in an indication of comfort. “Well I’m here if you need to talk about it. Or not at all.”

“I know.” She patted his hand twice. “I appreciate that Harry. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” After that, his hand was gone, and he was swiftly exiting her room. She felt relieved at being left alone to deal with this mess herself. But now, there was a small part of her that had wanted him to stay, that welcomed the solace of a friend.

But years of solitude were not that easy to heal. She would need to take baby-steps to combat this feeling, and that started with these photographs.


	17. Sexy times #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for [@olivia-caliban-coulson](http://olivia-caliban-coulson.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> For the prompts:  
> Napping in sunshine  
> Dust floating in golden sunlight  
> Blowing a raspberry against someone’s skin

A caress on her side woke her up. Her eyes, which flickered open at the sensation, immediately closed, blinking out the residual sunlight glaring directly into her face. When it became too much to bear, she tucked her face into her arm.

“Morning darling.”

Her own greeting was lost, muffled into the crook of her elbow. She felt the surface beneath her shift, then an enveloping weight covered her back. She jolted a little when something smooth pecked between her shoulders.

“No, no, no” she mumbled, pushing with all the strength she could muster. The weight moved, allowing her to turn. Her bare chest felt warm beneath the morning sun, uncovered by the sheet that must’ve shifted during last night’s activities. “Hm, I just want to sleep.”

“It’s 11 am.”

A part of her wanted to panic at that. But the exhaustion was winning. She opened her eyes to gaze daggers at her bed companion who was kneeling up on his elbows and watching her with an amused grin. “I… don’t care” she said, attempting half a shrug from her reclined state.

“Oh really?” he asked, exaggerating his astonishment to her rebellious words. He leaned down, kissing the area his hands caressed.

Images and sensations of the previous night flooded Macy’s head. “Well if you start doing _that_ again, then there’s no way we’re leaving this bed today.”

He left one last raspberry an inch beneath her breasts before he peered up. “We?”

“Hm” she hummed in enthusiasm, her fingers running through his wild locks before gripping them tightly in her fist. “I may be tired, but that doesn’t affect my abilities you know.”

“No.” He was taunting her now, bracing for a reaction.

He got it in a swift kick to his leg. Not enough to inflict pain, but enough to catch him off guard. Before his mind could catch up with body, he was on his back, defenceless to the woman who towered above him. She bracketed his hips and forced his hands above his head. Hovering just above his lips, she whispered; “I hope you have no outstanding appointments, professor.”


	18. After care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for @anonymous on tumblr.
> 
> For the prompt: The tender ache when you press against bruises.

It was a level two demon. It should’ve been a piece-of-cake mission, and it was. But it had still managed to get in a lick or two before its inevitable defeat. It was nothing the girls couldn’t handle themselves. And even if their injuries were too severe to manage, they knew their trusted whitelighter would be there to take care of it.

But Macy knew it took a toll on him. She assumed it was due to the weight of his new responsibilities, being the last of his own kind and all. Of course now they knew other whitelighters remained, retired or in hiding. Perhaps he felt judged under their scrutiny, forced to take on their outdated morals, _alone_.

Either way, Macy wouldn’t risk it. She would protect Harry with the same attentiveness in which he protected them.

So when they finally reached home - by bus, much to the sister’s dismay – she used exhaustion to disguise her crooked posture. Standing tall only made the pain in her side more punishing.

It was too late in the evening to talk about it so they all eagerly separated as soon as they entered the manor. Mel made a beeline for the kitchen, and Maggie chose to collapse on the lounge rather than brave the stairs. Macy wished she’d had the same idea.

She was six steps up when she started to regret it. But she knew if she turned back, she would regret it more. Her hesitation was brief. Fuelled by the desire for sleep, she climbed at a steady pace.

Time no longer felt like it was passing. It stood still around her, stale in the air. She wanted nothing more than to fall into unconsciousness. But she knew she’d never get comfortable with the burning on her ribs. So she triumphed the stairs, walked passed her desired destination and stepped straight into the bathroom, closing the door slowly behind her. She latched it shut before any thought of receding came to mind.

From across the room, she caught her reflection. Her curls were their normal tangled mess, but her face was void of colour - Her eye’s hollow, her lip’s chapped. She looked like she had been through hell.

 _And all because of a level two demon_. She would shake her head in shame if she wasn’t sure it would make her throw up.

She got to work assessing herself. The only ounce of pain she could feel was concentrated to one area, so that’s where she focused. She unzipped her jacket and let it roll slowly off her arms. Any residual movement had her biting her tongue to silence the agony. She dropped it on the floor, forgotten. Then she calculated the safest way to remove her shirt, coming to the conclusion that she couldn’t lift her arms any higher than her shoulders. So instead, she pulled the spaghetti straps of her shirt down, letting the materials slide and scrunch up at her hips. Her side still burned with the friction, but she managed to breathe through it.

With her skin exposed, she could now see the full brunt of the injury. The bruise was barely the size of a fist and felt much worse than its plum complexion. She wavered her fingers over the skin, barely touching the wound. Yet her skin prickled at the sensation, and she couldn’t help but flinch back.

She wasn’t a glutton for punishment, by any means. She just needed to feel it. Something tangible. Something that stopped her thinking about anything else.

She was too engrossed in the sensibility that she failed to hear the tapping on the door. “Macy.” Harry’s words broke through, shattering her composure. Her hands shot down to immediately lift her shirt back up but the pain was worse. It pulsed with every new movement.

“Macy. Open the door.”

She hesitated, watching the line of her eyes slowly bloom in redness.

“Your sisters are concerned Macy.”

Of course they were. She couldn’t hide anything from them. It also could’ve had something to do with how she was physically knocked on her ass tonight, but-

“ _Please_ , Macy.”

She flicked her fingers and heard the latch on the door click. He didn’t barge in as she expected him to. He opened the door slowly, letting the creek of the timber be loud and pronounced. It felt awkward in this intimate moment, and Macy would’ve laughed if her side wasn’t on fire. She hunched over in anticipation for the next flare of agony.

“It’s okay. I’m here. Let me take a look.”

Her focus was on the floor, nervous to be this bare and distressed in front of Harry. But his soft touch and calming resonance was welcome. She let him make his observations but started to pull back when his gaze and hands found her wound.

He gripped her arm in a firm vice and shushed her concerns away. “It’s okay Macy. I won’t hurt you.”

“I-I know.” Her voice came out cracked and shaky. She peered up briefly, with enough time to catch a small smile on his lips.

“Macy.” Her gaze bounced back up again. “May I?”

She glanced down at her chest. His hand hovered graciously over the bruise. She hesitated, then nodded.

His hand began to emit a glow, white and blazing. It felt warm, and got hotter the deeper it burned into Macy’s skin. There was no pain that came with it, only the tension of how close he was to touching her.

She wanted more. She covered his hand with her own and shifted it closer. The touch was like scorching fire. But the sensation wasn’t physical. She felt it deep in her chest. In her heart. She braced the feeling and gasped when it became too much to bare.

Harry watched Macy’s reaction with new interest. He too could feel something stirring deep within. It was a feeling he was familiar with, even if he hadn’t felt it in a long time. He looked at her face, lit up by the rays of his hand. Her eyes are closed, mouth open in… awe.

He took his hand away. Her skin appeared unharmed, and all remnants of pain was gone. She took tentative breaths to come back to herself and finally opened her eyes. “Thank you, Harry.”

He was relieved to see her relaxed. He took the healing hand and brushed it over her cheek, wiping away a tear hanging delicately off her chin. “It was my pleasure.”

As close as they were, and as shy as she could be, Harry’s closeness felt almost natural. When he started to pull away, she didn’t let him. Her hand held tightly to his sleeve, gripping like a last vice. “Please, stay.”

He hesitated this time, wanting nothing more than to be this close to her. But silent boundaries had been set by them both. Any kind of romantic entanglement was dangerous.

But right now, this could be anything but romantic. Macy simply wanted to be held, and cared for. For once, she wanted to feel anything but the pain in her mind. “Just… until I fall asleep” she clarified.

He accepted the terms. He helped her fix her shirt and they shuffled into her bed, shoes kicked off. They reclined on their backs, side by side, shoulders touching and hands still clutched together. It felt nice to be in his presence, and Harry found the sound of her even breathing comforting.

Eventually he would orb out and move to his own bed, but as long as she needed him, he stayed.

**Author's Note:**

> Request a fic: [@katasstrophee](http://katasstrophee.tumblr.com/).


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